


The Question Isn't Why

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's plenty of work to be had, but Helen knows only too well what will happen if they keep going at the pace they have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question Isn't Why

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boosette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boosette/gifts).



Helen is exhausted. Her neck aches on one side in a dull throb that promises a serious headache later. She rubs at it ineffectually as she makes her way back to her quarters, trying hard to let the day's sessions slip to the back of her mind. There's not much use trying, though. These days, it's a struggle to let go of the voices, the pain, and the patients behind them.

The loss of an entire world has that effect on people and she's no more immune than the people she watches over.

She makes it to her favorite chair before she drops, barely summoning enough energy to tug off her boots and kick them aside. Idly, she considers taking a few days leave and heading back to the house in Victoria. She needs a few nights away from this with at least one long soak in the tub with a glass of wine before retiring to her bed and the sound of the waves to lull her to sleep.

Debating, she opens her eyes and looks at the ceiling while she tries to summon upon the energy to move to her console.

"I need a Betazoid," she tells the air. "Mind-readers make everything easier."

A hand touches hers, putting a glass of wine into it, and then brushes cool fingers across her forehead. "We're gonna have to agree to disagree on that one. No way in hell Spock makes a damn thing easier."

"Vulcans don't count," Helen says, opening her eyes to grin at the man above her.

Len grins back. "Sure they do. Telepaths."

"Touch telepaths, primarily," she corrects, waving a finger at him. "They can't read your thoughts unless they are in physical contact with you. Well, they can't unless you happen to be in a marriage bond with them and laziness is not a good enough reason to get married."

"All depends on the reason for the laziness," Len says, sitting down with a glass of his own. He groans as he does, as if every muscle aches, which they probably do. "I had half a brain cell left, I might even be able to think of a few good ones."

Easing up so she can drink, Helen takes a good look at him. He's changed out of his duty uniform and showered. His hair's still wet. She reaches out to close the distance between them, fingertips skimming over the closest part of him. His hand twitches beneath her touch, but its a half-hearted reaction at best. He looks as exhausted as she feels.

"We're putting in for leave this weekend," she decides.

He opens one eye and looks at her. "Are we?"

She nods. "Doctor's orders. We both need to rest before we collapse." While the Enterprise is in dry dock, simultaneously being repaired and completed, they're on temporary assignment with Starfleet Medial. There's plenty of work to be had, but Helen knows only too well what will happen if they keep going at the pace they have been.

"Won't argue with that one," he says, sitting up as well. "Feel like I could sleep for a year."

"Feel free," she says. "I'll be in the tub for at least half that time, however. I need the soak."

"You and your baths," he says, but his eyes are warm and interested. He's as big a fan of her in the tub as she is, possibly more. "Need a volunteer to wash your back?"

"I thought I had a standing one," she says, smiling.

"Oh, always," he says, saluting her with his glass. "The question'll be, me or Jim?"

She laughs. "Well, I would assume you," she says, sipping at her wine. "We'd have to pry Jim away from the ship first." She's not sure what it says that she's halfway jealous of a starship, but she's not worried. It's good that he's so invested, beginning to come into the potential she and Len both have seen in him from go.

Jim's becoming _Jim_ and that's been one of the best parts of this all. Helen's always known what she would do. She has always been the listener, the friend, the sympathetic ear and the quietly helpful voice and she _loves_ that. She loves it like Len loves surgery, like he loves figuring out treatments for patients, and the idea that Jim finally has the same drive and passion for something―an outlet for the fire that burns behind every look in his eyes.

"I was thinking of the house in Victoria," she says, "but maybe we can swing a few nights in Riverside."

The only other time Jim has come alive like he does with the Enterprise have been on the farm in Iowa.

"And we presume to get him away from the ship how?"

"Spock," she smiles. "He's just itching to rip apart that science station of his, but he refuses to do it with Jim hanging over his shoulder. Any chance to get the captain off the bridge and out of his hair is one he's going to take."

"Dr. Noel, you are a diabolical woman," Len says, grinning again. "Knew there was a reason Jim and I fell in love with you. What mystifies me is why you returned the favor?"

She smiles. "Many, many reasons." Like how the second Len sees her rubbing her neck, he'll take over and he won't stop until she's boneless with pleasure. Or when Jim comes home he'll make annoyed faces at the foodslot before commandeering their small kitchen to make a 'real meal'.

Or, best of all, how they'll all fall into bed together, bodies moving against each other until she falls asleep pressed between them and wakes to warm, lazy touches with the dawn.

It isn't all happiness and rainbows, of course, but it's enough that she doesn't ask why she loves them. Helen doesn't ask useless questions.

She finishes her wine and puts the glass aside. "I'll take a shower and then call Spock. By the time Jim gets back from the ship, we'll have everything arranged."

He nods and tips his mouth up to receive the kiss she drops on his lips as she passes. "Aye aye, ma'am."

She looks down at him then, with a grin, pulls him up with her. "Come on, I still need someone to wash my back."

They'll get everything done before Jim comes home and, then, they'll take care of him together.

If Helen were to ask why she loves them, then, perhaps, that might be the beginning of an answer.


End file.
